February 9, 1997

Letters'The Intimate Hour'

To the Editor:

In her review of my book ''The Intimate Hour: Love and Sex in Psychotherapy'' (Jan. 19), Anne Bernays misrepresents my views and inaccurately attributes to me the opinions of others whom I quote. First, she puts into my mouth Bruno Bettelheim's opinion that although Jung hurt his patient Sabina Spielrein by sleeping with her, at least he cured her. My own opinion, stated throughout the book, is that ''I do not believe that sex can coexist with therapy.'' Second, Ms. Bernays repeatedly confuses feelings of love or sexual desire with action. She implies that I believe all may help a patient. I don't. Third, she suggests that it makes no sense to distinguish among different kinds of unethical erotic liaisons -- forcible rape versus a relationship that leads to marriage, for example. If she were a professional in the field, she would realize that the careful study of precisely these differences, not their cavalier dismissal, is what is needed. More than 80 percent of all therapists are sexually attracted to a client at some point in their careers, but in vastly different ways. They need to know what is happening.

Without misattribution and misunderstanding, Ms. Bernays's review might simply have stated that she sees no role for emotional engagement to play in psychotherapy. She neither understands nor recognizes its place alongside objectivity and expertise, and she doesn't want its risks. This is the basis of our disagreement.

Susan Baur
North Falmouth, Mass.

Henry James on Film

To the Editor:

In her essay ''Henry James: Losing It at the Movies'' (Jan. 19), Laura Miller says, ''If 'The Portrait of a Lady' presents a cinematic challenge, 'The Jolly Corner' seems unfilmable.'' Not only has it already been filmed, but it was done convincingly and chillingly. I refer to the 1977 PBS production for the ''American Short Story'' series, starring Fritz Weaver and Salome Jens.

Hampton Fancher
New York

The Metamorphosis

To the Editor:

It was no ''convulsive urge,'' as Holly Brubach suggests in her review of Marie-France Pochna's biography of Christian Dior (Jan. 12), that prompted me to develop a whole new wardrobe in the summer of 1947. I had no choice. I was 21 years old and had just graduated from college. I was to begin my career at Vogue magazine as a junior copywriter in the promotion department of Conde Nast.

I had the summer months to assess my wardrobe and salvage what I could by letting down hems as much as two inches. But the New Look was not just about skirt lengths. It was a celebration. Dior released us from the fabric-shy fashions of the war years.

About the same time, I had Enzo da Perugia cut my hair. He had tapering down to a fine point. Gone forever was my signal head of red hair. That was a long time ago, and I won't pretend that I haven't gone through many metamorphoses since then. But to me, Dior started it.

Annett Francis
Bronx

A Loopy Genius

To the Editor:

Brenda Wineapple's review of ''The Letters of Gertrude Stein and Thornton Wilder'' (Jan. 12) states that Stein ''has even been accused of nominating Adolf Hitler for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1938.'' I suspect the following is the source of that accusation.

The May 6, 1934, issue of The New York Times Magazine published an article by Lansing Warren based on his interview with Gertrude Stein. Among the things she told him was this: ''I say that Hitler ought to have the peace prize because he is removing all elements of contest and of struggle from Germany. By driving out the Jews and the democratic and left elements, he is driving out everything that conduces to activity. That means peace.''

At the time, Warren worked in the Paris bureau of The New York Times. He had a good sense of humor, and he surely appreciated the Stein irony in this remark.

Despite any political compromises Stein may have made with the Vichy regime, this remark not only seems free of the taint of collaboration but is a fair example of her genius (self-proclaimed), or her loopiness, or a little of each.